WEAVEWEAVE THE SUNLIGHT
by synaesthesia
Summary: Now it's my turn to look out the window; I see a quiet, warm Japan. I set down my tea and stand; you look a little confused, but stand, too. I laugh & say, Let's get this day started. [ No magic, lot's of love. ]


Something I wrote, thinking on the love I've got for someone important to me. Just in time for Valentine's day.

/ Slightly AU, however. Slightly. No magic, but things are the same. Sakura & Syaoran; self explanatory? Title from T.S. Eliot's _La Figlia Che Piange_(The Weeping Girl), and character's from CLAMP. Story from my heart;

[ I love you ]

* * *

It's an American tradition, he said.

My fingers were curled the hat Tomoeda assigned with the uniforms; I didn't know I was blushing, and my eyes were concentrating on the ground.

He won't know, he offered again.

I had to have been a feverish pink.

I looked at him and nodded.

He looked pleased and said, Good. This is all you have to do--

"H-hoee."

[WEAVE WEAVE THE SUNLIGHT]

It was the day before, it was a Friday. Tomorrow there was no school due to a work day set aside for the teachers, our reports were coming out in the following week. The ending of Winter Semester, almost time for spring, finally.

I wasn't late that morning, and I wasn't surprised when I saw you standing off to the corner looking out of the window. The kids that came this early usually had chores or sometimes even detentions, so there weren't many. I saw Yamazaki and Chiharu doing their class-pet duty, and I think Rika just walked by with the teacher from fifth grade-- Mr. Terada? It's been four years since then; he transferred to our high school.

I set my things down and watched you for a minute; you weren't here, you weren't in Tomoeda right now. Your arms were crossed tight over your chest and you were glaring at something out, far away.

I smoothed my plaid skirt and walked over to you, quietly still. 

"Good morning." You said, and it surprised me. You looked at me with a calm smile. "Why so early?"

"I --- just woke up before the alarm." I muttered, suddenly bashful. You nodded and looked outside again.

"It's almost spring. The cherry blossoms are going to bloom soon."

I looked out with you and nodded, quiet. You had a lethargic grin only barely seen stretching your mouth. You stood this lingering silence, and I think you were about to say something, your mouth was barely parted, the prelude to--something-- but I broke our silence and blurted, "Tomorrow-- Ah, are you busy?"

"Tomorrow's the workday, right?" I nodded. "Then no." You didn't ask but I saw the question in your face.

"Well I was--wondering." I heard his voice coaching me on. "I was wondering, would you like to go do something? Go to the park?"

Your eyes wilted, like hyacinth's in heat. Your mysterious look was misleading, but the tone you answered me with was full and throaty, like you were saying something more. "Of course--" The bell rang and you smiled, almost apologetic. "I'll pick you up, around noon?" I nodded and you smiled again, it was the most wonderful thing.

"I can't wait."

The teacher rang her voice through the class room, and we took our seats.

I remember telling you good-bye that evening and you were waving to me, I'll see you tomorrow. Tomorrow, Sakura. And you were smiling and I was, too. I went home that night in my own company, and thought over, while reading over homework and scribbling out Math problems, I thought over how I could make tomorrow perfect.

I expected to hear a shattering in the cupboards, my brother home from work, but none of that came. Some times I forget he's in college, he & Yukito. He comes by one the weekends, sometimes, when he doesn't have exams. Sometimes I think you're starting to look a lot like him, but I know you're you. And that's why.

I stayed up late that night, late enough to hear my father's key in the lock. I crept downstairs to see him walk in quiet, thinking I was asleep and not wanting to wake me. When he saw me his eyes lit up and he asked, Why aren't you in bed? I told him both the lie and the truth,

Just homework, I yawned. And I couldn't help seeing you at my door tomorrow morning when I said it.

Don't stay up too late, honey, he said. He told me he was tired, and he was sorry. He kissed me on my head and said goodnight. Don't stay up too late.

I don't think I even went to bed at all.

The next morning, my eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep so I took a cool shower to hopefully lessen the swelling. In these years, my hair had grown out, much longer. It was past my chest now, and I brushed it out and tried it with clips, tried it with star clips and button clips-- But no. I tried it with ties and ribbons. But no. I rarely wore it down, it was always in my face, but I figured, why not today? I brushed it out and shook my head. I put on a little pink gloss, a touch of pink eye shadow; pink, pink. It was a motif. I was looking at my self in the mirror and glancing at the clock -- quarter until 11. You were always, always on time. I knew I had one hour and fifteen minutes, perfectly.

I walked to the closet and I knew what I was looking for. I saw a skirt with leggings, I saw a black jacket with embroidered pink sewn around the sleeves. 

Now or never.

It was five until twelve, I knew in exactly five minutes I'd hear the doorbell. I was sitting on the couch, a black bag in hand. This was all I would need.

Four minutes.

I was breathing slow, trying to calm myself.

Three minutes.

I was hoping, hoping--

Two minutes.

My insides were knotted; when did it become this way?

One minute.

And now I was scared. My heart was built up with you and my mind was telling me, Sakura, what are you thinking? And I don't know.

Ding dong; perfect timing.

I'm at the door in seconds, smiling at you and telling you to come in; Are you thirsty? I could have tea ready, give me a moment. And I was in the kitchen just as soon. You came in, too, and stood with me and got out the cups. And suddenly, this wasn't my kitchen. Not my father's, not my mother's--

But ours.

You were telling me about spring; it's soon. You laid the mugs out on the counter and went over to the window, and stood just like I remember seeing you at school. Strong and silent, but warm and welcoming-- warm and welcoming to me. I came up beside you and you smiled, and I didn't move until I heard the water boiling.

We sat at the stools, not proper Japanese etiquette, but today I knew I'd be breaking more than one tradition. You asked me what I had planned, to be dressed so nice and I knew this time I was blushing, I said it was a surprise. We've been together like this for years, you know. Since fourth grade when you transferred in from Hong Kong. But it's not always been this way, this warm conversation. I remember how you were when you first came to me; we've both changed, I think.

"Have you heard from Tomoyo?" 

I smiled at that; she had written just the other day. In the eighth grade she was accepted in to an Academy that focused on the Arts-- and she was an artist. In design and song. She'd be studying abroad in Europe until you and I were eighteen, and that's only if she didn't decide to extend it.

I retell what she had written me in poetry; she wrote about the music that never stopped, the sky and how the water and the horizon seemed no different. I could tell she was happy, happy there. 

You nod and I know you're pleased to hear about her; since this Semester started, we haven't been able to spend much time together. Your classes and electives were different from mine, and I only could catch a glimpse of you when you ran by with the soccer ball, when I was out running track or practicing cheer.

Now it's my turn to look out the window; I see a quiet, warm Japan. I set down my tea and stand; you look a little confused, but stand, too.

I laugh and say, Let's get this day started.

We took the bus to Tokyo-- well, we stopped just outside it and walked the twelve minutes. You had your hands in your pockets and were looking at the ground. I adjusted the strap of my bag and linked my arm in yours and said, Keep your eyes up. It's beautiful today. You stared at me for a minute, something hidden behind your gaze; you stared and then said, Beautiful. Yeah. It is.

We heard music coming from the Tokyo Tower, and both turned to it. It was an American girl singing about love and wings and burning the world. I knew only a little English, but I caught that much. I started wondering what the poems Tomoyo would send with her, quoting famous authors, were really saying. That's why I took that language as my elective, not so I could talk to Eriol better. I remember you thinking I wanted to know him, more; wanting to be able to speak in code and tell him about my heart and love so you wouldn't understand. I laughed at that, even know. If you only knew.

We come up closer and I hugged you closer to me; I wanted them to think you were mine. Especially today. 

We walked around to the side of the tower where they had trees and a grove and bushes of flowers that had been imported from different countries. The sun was all around and it filtered in through the trees, over the tower and through it's crevices. You nodded to a bench and we sat there, watching the fish in the Koi pond just a few feet away.

"Before we go home, later--tonight," I asked, leaning with my palms on my knees, "Let's go to the Tsukimine Shrine."

You didn't look at me, but kept watching the fish. What were you thinking?

"There's a lot of history there," You said, leaving it open. Letting me catch it, if I wanted.

"Yes. But also things that are to happen." I took my chances. "Also the present."

I knew you were catching on and you smiled again, that boyish smile that you had finally gotten used to. Around me, at least. Around me and Tomoyo, and even Eriol. 

You reached over and held my hand for the longest time.

It was later when we left Tokyo Tower for Penguin Park; there's a lot of history there, too. There's a swingset that's so old and rusted now; that holds memories. I told you I had loved Yukito there, remember? It was getting close to winter, almost opposite of now. I was young and didn't know you; or I did and didn't want to listen to my heart. You held me there beneath the oak in the dying sun and told me that someone would love me more, just like Yukito had told me, when he quietly rejected me. You held me and it was the closest to heaven I had ever been. 

You sat on the same swing as you had then, only now your legs are spread out much farther. I sit next to you in my reminiscing silence and kick back and forth, slow. The sun wasn't fading like that day, and I wasn't crying. And I wasn't in love with Yukito. Yeah, things were opposite of then. 

"Is anything wrong?" You asked and it sounded like you were sincere; worried and eaten with it.

"Wrong--?" I stopped kicking the earth and looked at you from the side.

"You're taking me---- why are you taking me to these places?" You held on to one of the rusted links of the chain. 

"I--" And I didn't know how to answer. Not yet.

You were laughing, slightly, as if that made the accidental burden nothing. "Still a surprise?"

But I nodded and you understood, and we swung together in silence for a little while longer. Long enough, at least, for the sun to finally turn the sky red and orange and the color of fire, right before it dies. I didn't want to stay as it was setting, today wasn't going to be a repeat of then. I stood and walked over to you, stood there for a moment. You stopped swinging and looked at my feet; then at me, right in my eyes. I didn't say anything, I couldn't remember anything, and you just stopped breathing, I think. You opened your mouth like you did that time, like you were going to speak, and I said, before, "Come on. There's one more place."

You stood and suddenly towered over me, but it wasn't something I feared. There was one more place and then it would make sense to you. I tilted my head up and smiled, and your eyes looked damp with--- something. Again. Like those flowers a poet once wrote about; I've seen them before, and when the sun touches them they wilt and slump in the heat. And your eyes reminded me of that, again.

I told you to come on, come on. I have a surprise.

We walked the entire way to the Shrine; it was empty and the twilight was fading. The sky wasn't orange, instead it was bruised like purple orchids. Dark purple and pink, and orange and red and yellow. It was all fading, though. I think if Tomoyo were here, she would sing, and think she was making the light stay. And I think she would, she would make the light stay. Life strives off her voice.

You stopped behind me as we turned on to the path that led down to the Reflecting Pool. It wasn't time for this, what's happening? I looked back and you weren't looking at me, you were looking at the ground again. Syaoran, I called. You didn't look up. Syaoran? Still, you were looking at the ground. The wind was blowing, and in it I felt a new heat. Spring would be here, soon. People say it comes in March, people say in early April when the cherry blossom bloom-- I say when you can stand in the death of the sun and still feel warm, that's spring. Like dancing in a phoenix song; death bringing something that's life-giving.

"Did you feel that?" I asked and put my hand on my heart; I was taking a step to you and you still weren't looking up. Did you, did you feel that, Syaoran? Spring's here.

Finally I saw your eyes, glowing sienna from the sun. It was at my back, and you were bathed in it. So, it's now. The spring and the Sun are pushing this; it's now.

I reach in to my bag and take out something wrapped in green; you're watching me, quietly. Too quietly. Your hands are still in your pockets and you aren't moving them.

I'm in front of you, and my shadow is shading some of your body from the light. I'm looking directly at you; you know what's coming, I know. But not quite.

"Today's February 14th." I say, strong. "In America-- it's called Valentine's Day. We have something like that here, where the boys hand out chocolates?" You're understanding, but you don't nod. You're holding something in your pocket now, I can see your hand and the outline of something different. Something strange.

"I--" I peel back the fabric of green and I can see your eyes recognizing your favorite flowers, the Peonies. They are a rosy pink and I can suddenly smell them. "I heard that girls can do something too, though. In America." I hold out my flowers, close to your chest. "They can ask-- someone they love to be their Valentine. Theirs. For a day, or for forever." I normally would look down, but I'm wondering why there's a trace of shock in your gaze, almost like you ran a mile to the store and it had closed long before; a little ironical-- it's faint, but I see it. I hold my flowers firm and I see your lips part, just a little.

"So, would.." I take something like a deep breath, and say with my heart, "Would you be my Valentine?"

The wind's blowing and it's warm, but I feel gooseflesh standing on my legs. You're quiet again.

You move your left hand, and that too-strange thing in your palm is something wrapped in pink-- you're kind of laughing, but it sounds almost like a sob. You peel off the fabric and I see Cherry Blossom stems in your hand now, and your putting it in to my chest, above my heart.

"For a day or for forever, Sakura?" And the wetness I expected to see in your eyes again is replaced with something new, something alive. I'm aware of my favorite flowers, their scent mixing with yours and becoming something fragrant and beautiful.

And I answer, "For a day, or for forever, Syaoran?"

You step closer, and our flowers are molding in to something, unified. The airy pink of the sakura and the darker peony making something fragrant, beautiful, something unified and new. Something new.

You're close now, closer than ever before, and I can see every bit of your heart in your eyes. You smile and it's the most wonderful thing; the sun hasn't set and you're glowing. You're lit in the phoenix's song.

You're smiling and I see the outline so perfectly of your lips, and you say-- and I see and hear it so perfectly-- it will be engraved in memory forever.

"As long as there's Spring."

You kissed me, and the sun-- 

It set. And I swear, and you swear, you heard something singing. You think it's spring and I think it's the phoenix,

but I also think, it's both.

[ happyvalentine'sday; owari ]


End file.
